


Skinner, Dinner, and Accommodations

by allmilhouse



Category: The Simpsons
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, chili - Freeform, one-sided friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:28:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28747707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmilhouse/pseuds/allmilhouse
Summary: A few scenes set during and immediately after the main events of s32e8 The Road to Cincinnati
Relationships: Gary Chalmers/Seymour Skinner
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Skinner, Dinner, and Accommodations

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to post this sooner but I needed to binge a few road movies to get the vibes right. Also I will never stop yelling about GARIBALDI chalmers

Skinner was on fire these last few hours, and not like the time he found out the school's sprinkler system was faulty. 

After a disastrous start to _their_ trip, Seymour had proven himself capable in procuring a car, replacing it and dodging the law after the crash, and fending off the cycleheads. And now still on schedule and 24 hours out from Gary ( _Garibaldi? he still needed to ask_ ) Chalmers delivering the keynote speech at Edu-Con, he was feeling confident enough to suggest a quaint B&B off the interstate. 

"I have a rewards card," he explained to a bemused Chalmers, looking only slightly worse for wear considering how long their day had been. 

"Yes, very practical. Well, I must admit you've saved the day a few times already, so I'll defer to your expertise." He flashed Skinner a rare genuine smile, and it was like seeing a comet light up and tear across the night sky. 

Skinner rarely saw eye-to-eye with Chalmers, always too uptight when Chalmers was joking, or too flippant when Chalmers was serious. It gnawed at him, knowing that a friendship based on mutual respect was so close yet perpetually out of reach. He made so few friends in general, and the ones he had were usually chased away by his mother, or walked away in irritation. 

Loneliness was a side effect of the job, he found, and that’s why he sought the companionship of fellow educators. And he knew Chalmers made friends the same way. He’d seen the pictures after Chalmers and State Comptroller Atkins caught up at a conference in Scottsdale a few years ago, heads tipped back in laughter, arms casually thrown around shoulders. Jealousy was one of the few emotions he’d never been able to repress, and it flared up then, returning again when Chalmers dangled the prospect of another trip before inviting Principal Finch instead of him. 

He’d always had rivalries with other principals, and never really thought much of it before- all low-stakes, personal pride on the line, maybe nursing a grudge from losing at the Princey awards but nothing serious. Until the previous night, when he found himself poisoning Finch’s poké, and he started to think maybe it was more serious than he thought, when it came to Chalmers at least. 

There was a darkness to Skinner, buried deep under his mild smile and lavender shirt. He wanted few things in life, and needed even fewer, able to adapt to the most barrenlike of existences, and even thriving in hostile environments like Agnes Skinner’s house. But he needed Chalmers to like him, and he wouldn’t stop trying until he had his regard. 

They rolled to a stop outside the elegant looking house, looking warm and inviting in the fading daylight. He left Chalmers on the porch, to enjoy the fresh air and catch up on emails, while he went inside to check in. 

He nods and agrees as the clerk asks the routine questions, his eyes and attention focused on the window, watching Chalmers pace as he scrolled through his phone. 

"And it shows here on your profile that you prefer a single room with a queen bed-"

"Yes- Wait, no, I'm traveling with a different guest. We'll need two beds. Or two rooms, if possible." He turns back, but the clerk is gently shaking his head at the computer. 

"I'm sorry Mr Skinner, but we only have single rooms available. It's the busy road trip season, now that everyone's winterized their cars. Plus that new rocking chair museum just opened up last month."

Skinner frowned. "Doesn't my calico rewards status mean anything?"

"You get to choose what type of scone we have at breakfast."

He turned back and saw Chalmers approaching, a small smile on his face. Skinner sighed. "Do you have peach?"

_

It was a king size bed, thank god, so they'd have much more room than when he shared with Mother. 

He didn't mention it to Chalmers as they climbed the stairs, and Gary only raised an eyebrow as they entered the room. 

"Last available room, I take it? Looks cozy, at least."

He breathed a little easier, but still eyed Chalmers cautiously. "I’m sorry I wasn't able to get us separate accommodations."

"What was it I wrote in your evaluation last year? 'Does the best he can with the resources he has.' It's fine, Seymour.” 

Chalmers was an enigma in a sensible suit. For as much as he seemed to want to distance himself from Skinner, he was very hands-on with the many problems plaguing Springfield Elementary. He yelled at Skinner so much, always so easy to anger and so hard to please. But he wouldn’t keep visiting the school if he truly hated Skinner, and those few moments where he seemed, not exactly happy, but content, were enough to buoy Skinner’s spirits for weeks. 

But Chalmers was a hard man to read, and Skinner wasn’t sure if this was tacit approval considering the circumstances, or constrained anger. And after a long day of accidentally provoking him, he decided to admit defeat and ask. 

“Sir? Are you sure?”

Chalmers just looked at him as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “Skinner, I once spent 36 hours in a hospital with my wife as she slowly died, and today has been every inch as emotionally draining. This,” he gestured around, “is a step up.” 

Skinner floundered for a moment, not sure what to say, or do. His mind unhelpfully floated back to Edna, and all of the myriad ways he failed to relate, or was unable to console her. He didn’t have a comforting presence- he knew this, and at times of emotional distress, he tried his best to be a stoic, steady voice of reason. 

Thankfully, Chalmers needed no reassurance. The silence seemed to do the trick, because he looked up and smiled again. “I’ll go explore for a bit,” he said, lingering only a moment at the door to shed his coat and roll up his sleeves, before disappearing into the maze of wallpaper that was the hallway outside.

Left alone, Skinner was once again at a loss. Chalmers seemed to need some time to himself, and he didn’t want to impose. But there wasn’t much else for him to do. With their luggage left destroyed in the back of Mother’s damaged Buick, there was nothing to unpack or set out, or to practice high-fives with. He finally settled on a shower, deciding it would be most practical while he had the room to himself. 

He hung his own jacket up, next to Chalmers’. The tag was sticking up in the superintendent’s collar, and he deftly folded it back in and smoothed down the back of the coat. _Chalmers Big and Tall Man Shop, Tacoma WA_. He reached back into his own, pulling out his conversation starter cards and a pen out of his inner pocket, and quickly added a footnote to ask if he was related, and what kind of a discount he got. 

He showered, shaved ( _another patented Skinner travel hack: shave at night so you can hit the road earlier the next morning_ ), and dressed while contemplating the evening. They’d stopped for steamed hams before finding the B&B, so dinner was no concern, but it was still early enough that retiring seemed unfeasible. 

He watched the sun set for a few moments, before noticing that the porch light was on downstairs. The nice, mild evening air was appealing, and the thought of company equally so. He often made friends at B&Bs on trips with Mother, while she was off yelling at someone else for a change.

Chalmers was on the porch, sitting comfortably in a rocking chair with a cat in his lap. He brightened when Skinner approached, that rare smile shining in the dim evening light, and Skinner was struck by a sense of calm he hadn’t felt in a very long time. 

_

_”I DON’T LIKE YOU!”_

It echoes around his head, just like it had been for the past 200 miles. He was used to Chalmers yelling at him, it happened nearly every time he saw the man. But after everything they had been through, after the years of dedication and loyalty-

Skinner didn’t want to admit it, but Chalmers’ words hurt more than the plan to replace him. That was unforgivable on its own, a real slap in the face of everything he had been able to accomplish in his time as principal. Everyone knew Springfield Elementary had its problems, most them being budgetary or Bart related, but Gary knew he was trying. 

Gary. He felt his shoulders tighten and his jaw clench as he even thought about the man. The man who hired him, all those years ago. The man he thought was his friend. 

It was one thing, to fire him and give his job to Finch. It stung, but that was the role of the non-educating administrator. But to say it, to look him in the eye and say it. 

_”I DON’T LIKE YOU!”_

The unnaturally large soybean crops of Conklin County came into view and Skinner impatiently tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel, careful to avoid the scratches and burns he got earlier in the fight. 

He’d have to return the visibly damaged car to Judge Winchester, and explain how it happened while they escaped from the murderous cyclists. He’d have to offer to pay for the damages, despite having just quit his job on the worst terms possible. And he’d have to find his own way back to Springfield, still about 400 miles away. 

Then he saw the police lights in the rearview, and mentally updated his list of priorities. 

_

They get that bowl of chili and it's damn good. Chalmers opts for three-way, and Skinner settles for two.

“Might be easier to work my way up,” he reasoned, and Chalmers nodded, no hint of frustration or irritation showing. 

“We’ve got all the time you want,” he said, that smile returning to his face and reassuring Skinner that he was being sincere. Skinner had seen it, all the way from the back of the auditorium when he’d arrived in the nick of time to catch Chalmers' speech. To hear those sweet words. _”I respect Seymour Skinner. In fact, I like him”_ was more than expected, after their fight, but damn if he felt he hadn’t earned it. 

Chalmers called Comptroller Atkins after the speech, explaining their hardship, and was able to get the school board to secure hotel rooms for them, in addition to calling a last minute professional development day for Monday, giving the two men ample time to relax, recuperate, and return home.

They both slept in, and after a small walking tour to take in the skyline, Chalmers suggested a chili dinner. He asked Skinner to pick the place, once again deferring to his knowledge, and after minimal consideration, they wound up at one of the more well-known places. 

The food was good, but conversation came in fits and starts, neither man sure where exactly to begin. After their second plates arrived, Chalmers remembered Skinner’s conversation cards, and once again decided to let the principal take the lead. 

“Since, uh, since we don’t often get this sort of time together,” he began, clearing his throat “Is there anything you wanted to ask me?”

Skinner didn’t need to consult his cards to pick the one he wanted answered the most. “How can I make your job easier?”

Chalmers paused, fork halfway to his mouth, already breaking into that slow grin again. “You already do.”


End file.
